


Lucy and Ricky

by harleygirl2648



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Hook-Up, Interviews, Sassy, Snark, Vegetarians & Vegans, We Pretend to Dislike Each Other But This is Secretly a Real Relationship, What Are Morals, because this ship is canon in my heart, morally dubious power couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 07:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11031738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harleygirl2648/pseuds/harleygirl2648
Summary: Frederick and Chilton and Freddie Lounds, hooking it up in the office.





	Lucy and Ricky

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY.
> 
> So this technically counts as a crack ship, because apparently only ten people ship it that I know of. So here's a new fic, all ten of you! For the rest of you who might be reading this out of interest, allow me to sell this ship to you:
> 
> 1\. Both characters are morally dubious and don't care  
> 2\. Both are sassy vegans  
> 3\. Freddie saved Frederick's LIFE, people  
> 4\. Both are named FRED, for Christ's sake
> 
> Oh, and as a last note, this fic is set around the beginning of season 2.

“...And if there’s any new developments with Will Graham, your office will be the _first_ to know, Agent Crawford,” Frederick said in conclusion, opening the door to his office so that the agent in question along with Price and Zeller.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Jack said, passing through the doorway, only to stop shortly afterwards and send a hard glare to someone sitting outside. “What the hell are you doing here, Lounds?”

The woman in question stood up with a smile, snapping a picture of all three agents at the door. “Made an _appointment,_ Agent Crawford. Shouldn’t I be asking what you are doing here? Hearing about your resident psychopath who claims he has no idea how there was an ear in his throat?”

She kept her smile on even as she received three separate glares. It was a little wider as she noticed the amused look in Frederick’s eyes from behind them. And as the agents all left looking a little wary, he held the door open a little wider. “Miss Lounds.”

“So formal,” she teased, letting herself in and making a beeline for the desk in order to run her fingers over the fat stack of files on the corner of it. Frederick rolled his eyes as he relocked the office door, and made his way to the desk to slide the files away from her.

“Absolutely not.”

She pretended to pout. “That’s not fun, Fred.”

Another sigh. “And why are you here, Miss Lounds?”

“You don’t need to be so professional, Doc-tor,” she snarked back, leaning against the desk now. Frederick walked around the desk and sat down in his chair, leaning forward with his hands clasped together. He reiterated his question and got an eyeroll from her in return.

“What, you only want to see me on weekends?”

“Not all,” he replied coolly, taking a file and pointedly reading it in front of her. “Except that I’m busy, you understand.”

“No you’re not,” she rollled her eyes at that. “You’re a workaholic, you already finished all of it, all you’re doing is playing Solitaire and spying on your patients.”

He chose to roll his eyes at that, leaning back in his chair to look up at her. “What can I do for you?”

She smirked back, moving back so that she was fully sitting on the edge of the desk now, placing a heel on either side of his chair, reaching forward and pulling him closer by his tie. “You don’t have any appointments for the next hour, that’s plenty of time.”

 

 

Really, this whole thing had started by complete accident.

They had never really interacted with each other much in the past, apart from her occasionally scheduling an interview with one of his patients. No real personal connection to each other, it was purely professional.

At least, it was until she had to physically pump oxygen into him to keep him alive. You really get to know a person when you _literally_ see inside of them. Freddie had decided to be decent and send a cheap get-well card so he’d be open to an interview later. She sent a few flowers, cheap ones, because she didn’t do sympathy and he didn’t do pity.

She showed up at the hospital a whole three weeks after the incident to finally conduct the interview to find that this _fucking_ _idiot_ had check his recently-eviscerated ass out AMA. And then promptly knocked on that fucking idiot’s door and _told_ him that he was a fucking idiot to his face and that she didn’t keep him alive for him to die tripping on his staircase. Not like she cared, though. He didn't either, engaging in a game of verbal tennis that would become second nature soon enough. She gave him two weeks to recover more fully so that they could have an interview.

They had had it at his place over a bottle of wine that was technically supposed to loosen both of them up. Because, well, it’s kind of painful to talk about the man who forcibly removed your kidney and murdered a few doctors in front of you, it’s hard to talk about. A drink between not-friends, that was perfectly understandable. And maybe emotions ran high during a few more drinks, and then, _well…_

“You fold your socks, I’m not surprised.”

Frederick groaned, untangling himself from his sheets only to make eye contact with Freddie Lounds in nothing but her underwear, camera in hand and going through his drawers. He probably would have shooed her out if the hangover wasn’t absolute hell.

“What - what are you doing here?”

“Well, Doc- _tor,_ we had sex up against-”

“Yes, I am aware of that,” he muttered, rubbing at his temple with his hand, closing his eyes to gather his thoughts again. “Here, still.”

“Going to kick me out? No wonder no one else is here.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem, Fred.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m snooping, it’s what I do. And for the record, I still don’t like you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

They set up another interview that next week. It also ended in too many drinks and ending up in bed again. As did the third one. The fourth one was the one that finally got completed, and up on the website the morning after.

They kept meeting up, however. Because two people with shared fucked-up life experiences with similar first names and expensive tastes could enjoy hooking up with little emotional connection whatsoever. Really, hardly any. Just occasionally picking up coffee or dinner, knowing that the other didn’t like scallions and took two teaspoons of vegan coffee creamer and remembering these things without a second thought. But they didn't _like_ each other, absolutely not.

 

“Do my buttons,” Freddie said, not a question, but a request as she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to get her now-mussed curls under control. “I have to run soon, you need anything?”

“Are you coming over tonight?” Frederick asked, buttoning up her blouse. “It’s your turn to get dinner.”

“I want tacos.”

“That’s fine. By the way, Will Graham mentioned that he’d like a potential interview with you.”

“Perfect, and did he actually tell you that or did you overhear it?”

“He mentioned it during a session.”

“I’m free next Tuesday afternoon, and _he’s_ obviously not going anywhere.”

“I’ll have my secretary arrange it,” Frederick stated as she finished tying his tie and then stretching his neck. “And you’ll mention the psychiatric methods that helped with his renovation?”

“Of course,” she smirked, sliding down off of the desk to find the heels she had kicked off, reaching down and picking a file off of the floor. “Can I have this?”

“That’s something from the FBI, they left it here by accident,” Frederick said, fake innocence in his tone. “It’s not my jurisdiction, nor do I know that it is here.”

Freddie I just smirked wider as she slipped the file into her camera bag. “Thank you. Bye now, I’ll be over at six, don’t be late.”

“Aren’t we domestic?”

“Yeah,” Freddie said, rolling her eyes as she walked back over to wear Frederick was sitting in his chair attempting to put his desks back in order, “Like a fucked-up version of Lucy and Ricky Ricardo. And if you call me ‘honey,’ I’ll slap you.”

“Charming,” he replied dryly, turning back and leaning up to kiss her on the lips. “I’ll see you later.”

Freddie deliberately mussed her hair again before she headed for the door, calling over his shoulder, “Lipstick on the collar, might want to get that.”

She left the office and immediately almost bumped into Zeller and Price, obviously looking for the file left behind. She straightened her noticeably wrinkled blouse before smirking, nodding a greeting and walking past without a look behind her. They watched her leave, and as soon as she was out of earshot, Jimmy said, “Oh, I _called_ it, you owe me twenty bucks. Twice in two weeks is _not_ a coincidence.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, but it is Thomas Harris canon that there were condoms in Frederick's desk (look it up if you don't believe me) and I ALWAYS follow the canon, right guys? Right?
> 
> Please, please leave all the comments and kudos you like! I love responding to them! If you want more Fred Squared, let me know!
> 
> Come visit me on [Tumblr](http://somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds.tumblr.com)!


End file.
